Noel
by otherhawk
Summary: Napoleon and Illya look towards the first Christmas that they've been working together.


**A/N: Happy Christmas InSilva - pick a fandom...**

 **A/N2: I intended to post this on Christmas Eve, but I went away and forgot to pack my laptop charger, so sorry that it's late.**

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The world still needed saving, even at the most wonderful time of the year. That was what Peterson, the CEA, always said anyway, in a tone just a little too serious to be taken seriously. There was supposed to be a Section II presence within headquarters at all times, ready to respond to any nefarious THRUSH schemes that might be afoot.

And this year that presence was going to be Napoleon and Illya. He wasn't really surprised. Theirs was the newest partnership, he hadn't been on duty last year and Illya obviously hadn't even been in the country. Not to mention that since Illya didn't even celebrate Christmas, they were probably a sensible choice. He smiled ruefully to himself – with that logic in play, he should probably be prepared to work a lot more holidays. Ah, well, it was a small price to pay to finally understand just what it was to have a partner he could trust and rely on completely. He wouldn't swap.

That thought in mind, he walked into the large office he shared with Illya and four other members of Section II. Right now, his partner was the only one in there, and he looked up at Napoleon with a frown. "Have you seen the rota for the holidays?"

"Napoleon raised an eyebrow as he took his coat off. "Good morning," he said pointedly. "Yes, I just went to have a look at it, as a matter of fact. Looks like we've drawn the short straw."

"Oh, good morning," Illya said distractedly before continuing. "I am sorry."

Huh. Had Illya volunteered them to work Christmas? It didn't seen likely. Not without having talked to Napoleon first anyway. "For what?"

Illya shrugged with a vague irritation. "I cannot help but think that they have assigned you to work on Christmas because of me."

Ah. "It's not a punishment," he assured him. "And someone has to do it."

"Nevertheless, I do not imagine it is how you had intended to spend the holiday," Illya persisted.

No it wasn't. He'd had hopes of passing the time pleasantly in the company of Rachel from the public relations office. "It's fine," he said. "I was in the office three years back over Christmas. It's generally quiet, and since we're not exactly expected to _work,_ just be there in case something happens, we ended up setting up a game of table hockey in the commissary." He smiled slightly. "I scored eighteen points and broke four plates."

Illya nodded seriously but it didn't look like he was going to be diverted.

"What's got you so bothered by this anyway?" Napoleon asked curiously. "Don't tell me you were planning on celebrating this most materialistic of holidays?"

"Yes, that's right," Illya said, deadpan. "Four months in your country and I have been seduced into your decadent capitalist ways. Truly, this mix of religion and commercialism is the opiate of the masses."

He grinned. "You know, tis supposed to be the season to be jolly."

"That is one of those words I do not trust," Illya remarked seriously. "I have noticed that no one ever says 'I am jolly today' - "

" - well, you're not," Napoleon contributed helpfully.

Illya glared at him halfheartedly. "Or even says 'you are very jolly today' without a tacit note of censure. It seems as though the word is only used in situations which carry an implication of mandatory enjoyment and levity."

"Really, what are the language lessons like in the USSR?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Intensive," Illya said dryly.

He shook his head slightly to himself as he sat down. He wasn't upset at working over Christmas, but the season was so often a reminder of the gaps in his life. Generally he was entirely comfortable with who he was and what he did, but every now and then... His many admirers often had families that they spent Christmas with. Sometimes he'd visit Aunt Amy, but she was out of town this year, visiting his cousin Dirk and her new great-nephew, the birth of whom meant Napoleon was in danger of being supplanted as favourite nephew.

"You know, my superiors back home generally consider that a danger," Illya went on after a moment. "That the slightest taste of your materialistic culture and an agent will be corrupted beyond all recognition. I sometimes wonder if they believe _us_ so weak, or capitalism so enticing."

Even as he smiled he was analysing. It was innocuous enough, perhaps, a joke that didn't really suggest any kind of disloyalty or anything, but what it _was,_ was an unguarded moment and those were rare. Four months had led to friendship, but precious few pieces of personal information. And one thing he certainly had learned about his close-mouthed partner over the past months was that he didn't do anything without a reason. Not always a reason Napoleon would fully understand, but a reason nonetheless.

He frowned.

"What?" Illya asked defensively.

"That was very forward for you." He paused. "Are you trying to make me feel better?"

The shutters came down over Illya's eyes. "Perhaps," he said. "I...know what it is like to have to let holidays go unacknowledged."

Ah. Of course. According to his file, Illya had spent half of his adult life abroad. And celebrating Soviet holidays in England or France, let alone America, was probably not the smartest of moves. There wasn't a trace of expression on Illya's face; no loneliness, no regret, and yet Napoleon found it very easy to imagine those things. And maybe that was why he offered "Hey, if we get to a holiday you feel like acknowledging and want some company, let me know."

Illya blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Thank you."

"But really, working through Christmas doesn't bother me to much. I've got no plans that I can't do at any time of the year." He smiled wickedly. "And when I say that I had to work over the holidays I can normally get at least five or six ladies ready to help me celebrate it late, in all the best ways. A few martinis, a roaring fire - "

" - I get the idea," Illya interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Surely you must have celebrated the holiday in a more traditional way at some point?"

"Back when I was a kid, sure," he nodded. "My father was often posted abroad and we'd all take part in the official Embassy Christmas dinner. Which was less officious than it sounds. There were generally plenty of other children, and they'd set up games and entertainment. One time they set up this enormous train set in the attic. It was great. But you know what I remember most clearly is going to midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. I still go even now, normally with Aunt Amy, but she's in Ohio this year."

Illya was staring at him. "I did not realise you still, ah..." He floundered.

Napoleon decided to help him out. It was Christmas, after all. " - still go to church?" he offered. "Not regularly. Christmas and Easter are about my lot. But I still believe, if that's what you mean."

"Oh."

For a moment he considered asking if that was going to be a problem, but he quickly decided against it. Really, he already knew the answer and the very question was insulting. "So what about you?" he asked, curious now they were seemingly exchanging confidences. "I know religion is discouraged, but did your parents ever celebrate in any way?"

He wasn't sure that Illya was going to answer, but after a long moment of hesitation, he shook his head. "No," he said. "They were loyal revolutionaries. I suppose they probably followed some religion at some point, but they had renounced it long before I was born."

He nodded, not surprised. "Anyway, working Christmas will be fine. Plus, it means that we'll have New Years off, which is just as well as I'm planning on throwing one hell of a party. You are planning on coming, right?"

Illya gave him a crooked smile. "I suspect I would never hear the end of it if I did not."

"Correct," Napoleon said, flashing a bright smile back. "And that's no way to start the first new year of our partnership. Now, I'm due in the archive library in ten minutes so I'll see you later."

"Of course," Illya agreed, and he waited until Napoleon was at the door before adding awkwardly. "Are you planning on attending the midnight mass this year?"

"Yes," he said, with a pang. This would be his first time on his own, and he wasn't exactly looking forward to it. "I'll be back in plenty of time for work though."

"Yes," Illya nodded. "I was wondering if you would like some company?"

He blinked. Wait... "Are you sure?" he asked cautiously. "I mean, would that be alright?"

Illya rolled his eyes expressively. "Godless communists do not burst into flames in the face of religion," he said dryly. "That is vampires you are thinking of. I have no issue if you do not; the music tends to be pretty and it is no problem to offer...a friend...some company."

"Yes," he said, and he smiled. "That would be nice. Thank you."

He had a feeling this was going to be an interesting Christmas.

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading, please review**


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